


Wing Beats

by orphan_account



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Buckle up, F/M, Full Rewrite, Not Canon Compliant, Started Writing Pre Season 4, Uncle Jagged Stone (Miraculous Ladybug), canon? What's canon?, no beta we die like fools, this is gonna be long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Small differences make substantial ripples. This is true within every aspect of life. The tiniest butterfly can flap his wings and summon down a storm on a kitten and a ladybug who never asked for it. So too can a ladybug flap her wings and change the world in turn. Fluttery and soft, gentle and kind, such miraculous wings can change a story for better and for worse.This time, it's for the better.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Chloé Bourgeois, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Chloé Bourgeois & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	Wing Beats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon died, this is its hell. 
> 
> Your guess regarding when I'll be updating is as good as mine.

The first time she ever spread her wings, they were shivery and weak. Brand new and unused, shivery and weak even if each fresh beat of them was noticeably certain. 

That wasn’t the point though. 

The point was that even such small wings, feebly outstretched newborn wings, could create a breeze that in turn could summon a storm. 

She was too young at the time to don that mantle of Ladybug. In fact, she was probably too young to be wandering around outside. Yet, those wings had decided that now was the time for them to spread. Kwami’s be damned, she was born to be Ladybug. Marinette Dupain-Chen was born for the role she’d one day inherit. Even at the age of three. 

The little girl in question was presently marching down the street like she was on some kind of mission, eyes narrowed in a way that some might mistake for dangerous if it wasn’t for the fact she was an actual child. Regardless of age, there were those who avoided looking at her as she determinedly stomped down the sidewalk. 

It wasn’t an angry kind of stomping, but it was certainly something to see. Her eyes trained dangerously on the figure of a man who was on the corner, playing music that only a few peoplepaid much attention to. Some went so far as to cover their ears while they passed, giving him foul looks. 

Entirely unperturbed, he just kept on playing with his guitar case sitting on the ground pathetically. Wide-open for ‘tips’. 

Marinette strode up to the particularly strange man who paused for a moment, glancing behind and around her. “Uh, hi?” He gave a little wave to the small child who seemed to be in the process of assessing him with an overly critical eye. Which was a bit jarring for a man who was probably at least in his late 20s if not somewhere in his 30s.

His accent was obviously foreign, but his words were clean and well pronounced which made it easy enough to make sense of them. They were also two words that she already knew. The tips of his hair were dyed purple and his beard didn’t look like it’d been properly groomed in a while. His clothes, while nice, had grown weary and worn with time spent in them as though they were the only clothes he owned. 

None of this was his worst sin though. These weren’t the reasons Marinette looked at him with a glare that people at least 20 times her age couldn’t so much as match. 

She closed the rest of the distance between the two of them, shoving a bag at him in an almost accusatory manner. “You’re too skinny!” She declared, wording it as though it was a choice he’d made. At least, that’s how the accusation in her voice made it feel. She continued to hold the bag out to him like she expected him to take it. 

He didn’t. Instead, he continued trying to look around. His expression quickly morphing into one of concern. “Where are your parents?” 

More words she recognized, so she answered. “Bakery,” she said, turning around slightly and pointing at a shop that wasn’t so far down the street. She turned back to him, quickly puffing out her chest. “You can’t play here, you’re too skinny! You can play when you aren’t so skinny!” She said. She was working with a rather limited vocabulary, still being rather young, but the sentence at least kind of made sense. 

That being said, even if the words in their order made sense it still didn’t feel like a logical statement. He was too skinny to play on the street corner to beg for food money? He truly became baffled as Marinette continued to shove the little paper bag at him. 

It smelled distinctly of pastries. 

The skinny man blinked a couple of times, as though he was still trying to come to terms with the situation, not to mention the logic behind the statement. 

“I think you should go home,” he said. He tried to give her a warm, encouraging smile, still concerned by the fact that this child was unattended. Was she allowed to be out here? Had she snuck out? Were her parents worried? He started to feel worse by the minute. Worse yet, the idea that those parents just might not care enough to take care of her, a bitterly familiar feeling rising up in the back of his throat. 

No, no, that probably wasn’t her situation. She looked well taken care of, not like he did when he was her age. Her dress was clean and her little bobbing pigtails were in pristine condition. She had a couple of bruises on her legs, but they looked like the scratches and bumps that come from little kids playing, not from the too-tight fingers of an adult. 

Not to mention, her eyes were much too bright for a situation like that. Bright and hopeful, almost blinding. Whatever kind of battle of wills this was shaping up to be, the moment he let himself get drawn in by that ferocious brightness he’d already lost. 

Marinette, for her part, strongly disagreed with the idea of going home. She shook her head in a very decisive kind of ‘no’, her two little pigtails bobbing along with her fervor. Once she was done rather passionately shaking her head, she lifted it back up and shoved the bag at him once more. 

He sighed, eventually giving in and just taking the bag. Marinette continued to stand there expectantly, her determined expression softening into an excited smile. 

Was she actually going to sit here waiting for him to eat it? “Okay, okay, I get it. If I eat the pastry will you go home?” He asked. Marinette paused for a moment, trying to wrap her head around the question. Still new to words and language. She tilted her head to the side like a curious pup, working through the sentence. After a moment she gave him a quick node and a massive smile. 

He reached into the bag, removing what seemed to be a croissant. If he was being honest with himself, the thing was frankly gorgeous. On top of that, it smelled absolutely divine. The child standing in front of him smiled as he took a giant bite. It was wonderful, the way it melted on his tongue. Flaky and buttery, it was noticeably top quality and made with a great amount of passion and care. 

Now, this was art! Just like his music. Full of passion and love. That’s what real art was, a representation of the soul! Not whatever breakup pop song was on for the day. 

Considering he hadn’t eaten at all that day, he ended up scarfing the whole thing down pretty quickly. 

“My papa made that. You look too skinny, so I thought you should eat it,” she said. She looked pretty satisfied with herself and all he could really do was hope he hadn’t accidentally eaten a child’s lunch or something she could get in trouble for bringing to him.

“That’s pretty impressive. If your papa is this talented, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with one of these days. I’m sorry I can’t keep chatting with you though.” He picked up his guitar as he spoke, grinning wildly at the little girl. “A rocker’s gotta rock after all! You really should go home now.”

Once again, her little face scrunched right up giving him the impression she had no intention of leaving just yet. In fact, her expression almost bordered on a glare as she appraised him a second time. The man faltered for a moment under such a powerful gaze.

“You’re still too skinny…” She said, as though she expected him to have magically put on all the weight he was missing in her eyes. He knew he was underweight, considering where the BMI of someone his height should be, but who was this small child to be criticizing him? Appraising him as though she knew all the secrets of the universe. 

When he looked down at her, he almost could have believed that. Unfortunately, a single pastry wasn’t going to help him put on the weight lost from months of missed meals and couch surfing. Her kindness was appreciated, but there wasn’t much good either of them could or was going to do standing here at what seemed to be an impasse. 

“Kiddo, really, you gotta go home,” he said with a heavy sigh, attempting to reason with her. A child under the age of five usually couldn’t be reasoned with, and Marinette didn’t look like she was going to be leaving anytimesoon. The determination in her gaze spoke volumes. 

There weren’t any birds about, but anyone listening might have heard the distinct flapping of a pair of wings. 

The skinny man keeled down, deciding to at least try to level with the child. “You know, strangers can be awfully dangerous. That includes me, so why are you so insistent about staying around me?” 

It was a blessing that no cops had stumbled across the scene and decided that this pathetic-looking man was a threat to this strong-willed child. At the same time, it was also a little upsetting since he could have been a genuine threat to her in a different kind of situation. 

Marinette’s determined expression melted away for a moment and once again she tilted her head to the side like a curious pup. “You don’t seem dangerous. And you aren’t a stranger. You’re here every weekend.”

The skinny man pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment, trying to wrap his head around child logic. He wouldn’t doubt that she’d probably walked past him quite a few times while running errands with one of her parents or when she was on her way home from school. Especially if she lived that close by. Still, though. 

“That still makes us strangers. We’ve never actually talked to one another, and your parents certainly don’t know me. Don’t you think they’d be a bit upset to know you were talking to me?” He couldn’t help wondering what this child’s parents must have been teaching her. 

Obviously, they weren’t properly educating her about stranger danger if her actions were anything to go off of. Or maybe she was just a really stupid kinda stubborn child. Luckily for the kid, he wasn’t some dangerous criminal, nor was he some kind of perverted creep. Even if she technically shouldn’t have been speaking to him, at least her instincts were pretty spot on. He was admittedly harmless. 

Didn’t change the fact that this child needed some reeducation regarding the dangers of strange men who were older than her. 

Her standing here like this wasn’t doing either of them any good, so he decided to try and strike a deal. “Will you leave me alone if I walk you home?” He asked. 

The question alone made him feel nervous and gross. He hoped she wouldn’t say yes, that she wouldn’t be willing to take the risk. Even if her house was barely a couple away from where he was standing, it was still utterly dangerous! Foolish! The only reason he was offering was because he’d feel worse if someone more dangerous managed to stumble across such a trusting little thing. 

Marinette’s little brow crinkled up as though she was deep in thought. A couple of awkwardly silent moments ticked past before the girl looked up and gave a resolute nod. Did she agree? Really? 

He stood up with his own quick little nod. “Then you have yourself a deal, little miss,” he said before packing away his guitar. Hopefully, her parents would give her a good scolding since she obviously wasn’t going to listen to him. 

It pained him a little to already be packing away his stuff. To give up early for the day. The pain mostly radiated outwards from his still mostly empty stomach. Not that he wasmissing out on much. Playing on the street corner never made him much money anyway, hence the state he was currently in. 

If only he could get his feet under him. Stay somewhere with a warm couch and warm meals. Just for a week. A week was all he thought it would take if he could get himself properly cleaned up. Then he could start applying himself to actual record labels and maybe snag one that would take the risk in letting him back in. 

Even that would be difficult though, given his reputation. He was just some washout, that’s all he’d become since he cut ties with his last partner. His popularity had tanked globally when they split apart, and that included the people living in France. 

Oh, what a mistake he’d made in letting her go. She disappeared from the public eye and he tried to stay. The negative reception of them splitting apart drowned her name in obscurity while he garnered something of a negative reputation, which led to his quick descent. 

Now he was all on his own, he was a nothing and a has-been musician who hadn’t even been all that popular beforehand. The reception post-breakup implied it was his partner that people liked. 

He’d been making enough to live off of beforehand, but he’d never been a top 100 seller let alone a top 10 seller like he’d been shooting for. 

After packing away all of his stuff, the little girl quickly grabbed the skinny man’s hand in a vice-like grip. She started dragging him down along the street that she was apparently quite familiar with given the ease of her movements and a skip in her step. 

No one paid them any mind. She grabbed his hand so easily they might as well have been family. 

They arrived outside of the bakery he’d only ever longingly looked at from his corner. He knew it well; the bakery had become a decently popular one in the last couple of years. Renown almost throughout all of Paris ever since they started catering for a lot of the larger and more popular events hosted by names he’d never have anything to do with. He certainly didn’t think he could afford any treats from this place.

“All right, kiddo,” he said, trying to pull his hand away from hers. “We’re here, you can let go now,” he continued. 

She didn’t let go. No, no, instead she just opened the door and continued to walk forward, his hand still in hers. Her grip was like a deadlock around his, the amount of force she possessed to grapple him so tightly was almost a little astounding. This was a child, right? 

Of course, it was still a child, he could have easily stood there and she wouldn’t have been able to drag him inside even if her grip was made of steel. Even in his weakened half-dead animal looking state. He didn’t have the heart to try. 

“Maman, Papa! This man is too skinny!” She loudly declared as soon as she opened the door and dragged the skinny man in right alongside her. 

Was it his imagination, or did she look proud of herself? No, she absolutely looked proud of herself. 

It mortified the skinny man without a doubt when the woman behind the counter looked up, mildly startled as her expression shifted between different kinds of concern. This was bad enough. He probably would have died immediately on the inside if there had been any actual customers in there at the moment. Luckily, the bakery for all its popularity seemed to be quiet. Which was odd given the time of day. Beautiful afternoon summer light was still pouring from the windows, enough that the front of the bakery didn’thave to have any lights on for it to still be beautifully bright. 

The warm home-ish lighting gave the Chinese woman behind the counter an extra layer of elegance and beauty as she quickly maneuvered her way in front of it, expression twisting up into apology. “Oh dear, I deeply apologize sir, I hope my little one didn’t cause you any trouble,” she said, pressing her palm to her cheek. 

She quickly grabbed up her little one, pushing her away from the skinny man and making something of shooing motion. “Marinette, what have I told you about doing things like this?”

“It might be dangerous, and I shouldn’t bother strangers,” Marinette, in turn,responded on what seemed to be an impulse. There wasn’t so much as the faintest trace of embarrassment or apology in a self-assured and regretless gaze. 

He wasn’t sure if that implied this was a common occurrence, but either way, he was a little worried. 

A much larger man emerged from the kitchen, his face flush with joviality and curiosity. His smile was borderline blinding. “Now Sabine, you have to at least admit that she’s right. Hello there, I’m Tom! I’m sorry if our little girl caused you any trouble, but she’s got a good eye for people! Especially people who could use a little help,” the much larger man, Tom, said as he appraised the skin and sad excuse for a man in front of him. 

The differences between them were outright staggering. 

Marinette’s new captive balked, completely lost for a response. “I, well, I don’t,” he stumbled over his words for a moment, trying to dismiss the idea that he needed any kind of help. Least of all from total strangers who didn’t need to be dealing with his burdens. 

Before he could finish, he caught the eyes of the little girl. She looked up at him with round little bluebell eyes, curious but also worried. It felt weird having a child of all things decided he needed help, but she wasn’twrong if he was being honest. He tried to summon up the words to dismiss Tom’s assessments of him. Marinette’s assessments of him. But she kept looking at him with those big brilliant eyes which almost seemed to peer right through him, assessing not just him but his very soul. The lies died off in his throat, leaving only the miserable truth behind. Since he couldn’t just keep his silence without being rude, he swallowed his pride and let it slip through his lips. 

“I don’t really need help, but I’m having a rough time lately. No one wants to sign any record deal with me, so food and a place to stay are getting to be a little difficult to come by. I’ll live though, I’m the most rock-and-roll man out there. I’ll show the entire world what real music sounds like!” There was more fire in his voice than he actually felt in his heart. 

His soul beat to the tune of old sweat and leather music. Not whatever was popular nowadays. HIs fall from grace upon leaving his last partner had meant the fall of the last true bastion for his genera. It was going to be hard to wiggle his way back into the industry, let alone making himself and his tunes popular. 

But he was up for the challenge and being in the presence of such glowing and homey warmth was already making him feel a little bit better. As though the presence of this small little family alone was enough to start lighting that fire back up. 

The woman, whose name was evidently Sabine, frowned at that. “Oh my. Yes, I believe Marinette was right. You’re so terribly skinny, and now that I think about it, you’re on that corner fairly often when we run errands. Are you making enough to eat like that? Do you have a place to stay tonight?” 

“Well, I haven’tasked yet,” he said. He wasn’t planning on asking either. The last people he could really go to were his parents, and that was something he absolutely without question refused to do. So more than likely, he’d be trying to find a bench that wasn’t covered in bird droppings. 

“Oh, my!” The woman said, looking affronted for him. “That won’t do, that won’t do at all.” She moved forward a couple of paces and fussed over him. He wasn’t sure if he should appreciate it or feel insulted. Either way, it was weird having such a matronly figure fretting over his weight and where he was going to stay, let alone a total stranger. 

“Why don’t you stay with us for dinner tonight? Just for the night? Oh, Tom, do we still have those extra blankets? The ones we usually get out for winter? Could you get them out and put them on the couch for me, please,” she turned back to the horriblyskinny man with a smile that almost brought him to tears. “Don’t you worry about a thing, dear. You can stay here for a couple of days until we can get you up on your feet.”

Her eyes were practically shining with a trust warmth. There was such a wonderful purity to them, one that she had very obviously passed down to her daughter if Marinette’s actions were any indicator. Of course, it might have been a trait of both parents given the way Tom’s smile was just as wide. 

“I couldn’t, I can’t! I thank you for your hospitality, but I’m still just a stranger,” one that they didn’t know was dangerous or not, “so I wouldn’t want to intrude Mrs-” He cut himself off since he didn’t know her last name. 

“Sabine is just fine. You aren’t intruding in the least, and I hardly think some as scrappy as you could prove dangerous,” she said with a little tinkling laugh. She patted the back of his hand gently before trying to lead him deeper into the house. 

Tom just gave another jolly laugh, eyes twinkling with amusement that wasn’t at all understood by their guest. “You might as well just let her do as she wishes. The girls have already decided. They’ve adopted you, there’s no real escaping that,” he said as though it was just a simple fact of life. 

“Oh tom, don’t scare the poor thing,” Sabine said. As though he was the one who was going to scare off their new guest. Their new guest who was quickly realizing that he didn’t have any say in this surprise forced adoption. “Tell me, dear, what’s your name?”

“Uh, Jagged. Jagged Stone.”

One little wing beat was all it took.


End file.
